Generosity (Richard Powers)
A book about an extremely happy person, and about happiness being or not being genetic (and what that would mean for individual people and for society).
Hm. B(/K) tried to get me to read Powers, oh, nearly ten years ago now. I'm glad I waited, because I don't think I would have liked him ten years ago. I'm not sure I like him now (though I'm not sure I dislike him either, and I did find this book fascinating). For one thing, there's a fine line between the exuberance of celebrating knowledge and just plain showing off. A great example of the difference is comparing Sayers' Lord Peter novels, where Peter and Harriet effortlessly toss off epigrams from poets and writers through the ages just because they find it fun, to Jill Walsh Paton's Lord Peter sequels, in which Peter and Harriet laboriously construct quotations because it is expected of them by the readers. -- John M. Ford is one whom I think falls on the former side of the line, and Richard Powers -- I'm not quite sure where he falls. When Generosity had a nice tidily wrapped reference to the Francesca da Rimini episode in the Inferno, I couldn't escape the feeling that I was dutifully catching it like I was supposed to, instead of enjoying it (as is usually the case when I catch Ford's allusions). And I'm not sure the allusion went anywhere, which made me kind of sad. (Maybe it did, and I didn't catch the rest of the allusions, but I suspect not.)
But this is not the point I wanted to make, which is that it's actually rather fascinating to see the sorts of things Powers has to say about science, scientists, how science and scientists are perceived, and how the media interplays with all these things. Powers is undeniably a good writer.
This book is a good paired read with Intuition (Goodman), in that both are about science and scientists. Intuition differs in that it is mainly told from the viewpoint of the scientists, with occasional forays into the POV of an affiliated non-scientist (e.g., the wife and daughter of one of the researchers), while Generosity is told mainly from the viewpoint of non-scientists, with occasional forays into the POV of an implicated scientist. This, of course, meant I enjoyed Intuition much more, because I naturally tend to share the point of view of the scientist. A recurring theme in Generosity is that most of the non-scientist characters react with dismay and horror at the idea that happiness could be genetically based. I agree with the scientist character in the book rather than the non-scientists: how cool would it be if we could find a genetic basis for happiness and quantify it! That would be really interesting! Bring it on!
I also found Intuition to be a much more compassionate book. Not that Generosity isn't sympathetic, but the narrative authorial conceit necessarily introduces an extra layer of separation between the reader and the characters that didn't quite work for me, though it might for someone who is more attuned to literary conceits (and less deeply suspicious of them) than I am.
Here is the extremely positive review from Strange Horizons that convinced me to read it, though note that I did not find the book nearly as compelling as that review does (Kincaid seems to be much more interested in the literary tricks, for one thing). Also, the review thought the narrator voice should be equated with Richard Powers himself. I... got a different sense. If anyone else reads/has read it, I'd like to compare notes as to what you thought.
Hm. B(/K) tried to get me to read Powers, oh, nearly ten years ago now. I'm glad I waited, because I don't think I would have liked him ten years ago. I'm not sure I like him now (though I'm not sure I dislike him either, and I did find this book fascinating). For one thing, there's a fine line between the exuberance of celebrating knowledge and just plain showing off. A great example of the difference is comparing Sayers' Lord Peter novels, where Peter and Harriet effortlessly toss off epigrams from poets and writers through the ages just because they find it fun, to Jill Walsh Paton's Lord Peter sequels, in which Peter and Harriet laboriously construct quotations because it is expected of them by the readers. -- John M. Ford is one whom I think falls on the former side of the line, and Richard Powers -- I'm not quite sure where he falls. When Generosity had a nice tidily wrapped reference to the Francesca da Rimini episode in the Inferno, I couldn't escape the feeling that I was dutifully catching it like I was supposed to, instead of enjoying it (as is usually the case when I catch Ford's allusions). And I'm not sure the allusion went anywhere, which made me kind of sad. (Maybe it did, and I didn't catch the rest of the allusions, but I suspect not.)
But this is not the point I wanted to make, which is that it's actually rather fascinating to see the sorts of things Powers has to say about science, scientists, how science and scientists are perceived, and how the media interplays with all these things. Powers is undeniably a good writer.
This book is a good paired read with Intuition (Goodman), in that both are about science and scientists. Intuition differs in that it is mainly told from the viewpoint of the scientists, with occasional forays into the POV of an affiliated non-scientist (e.g., the wife and daughter of one of the researchers), while Generosity is told mainly from the viewpoint of non-scientists, with occasional forays into the POV of an implicated scientist. This, of course, meant I enjoyed Intuition much more, because I naturally tend to share the point of view of the scientist. A recurring theme in Generosity is that most of the non-scientist characters react with dismay and horror at the idea that happiness could be genetically based. I agree with the scientist character in the book rather than the non-scientists: how cool would it be if we could find a genetic basis for happiness and quantify it! That would be really interesting! Bring it on!
I also found Intuition to be a much more compassionate book. Not that Generosity isn't sympathetic, but the narrative authorial conceit necessarily introduces an extra layer of separation between the reader and the characters that didn't quite work for me, though it might for someone who is more attuned to literary conceits (and less deeply suspicious of them) than I am.
Here is the extremely positive review from Strange Horizons that convinced me to read it, though note that I did not find the book nearly as compelling as that review does (Kincaid seems to be much more interested in the literary tricks, for one thing). Also, the review thought the narrator voice should be equated with Richard Powers himself. I... got a different sense. If anyone else reads/has read it, I'd like to compare notes as to what you thought.